


Late Nights

by BlueMyrian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Frottage, M/M, Pool & Billiards, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 11:42:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMyrian/pseuds/BlueMyrian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ash and Chuck are up late at the Roadhouse, waiting for Jo to get home from a hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Nights

Sometimes Chuck went to the Roadhouse when Jo was gone on a hunt, just to talk and have a few beers with Ash. Often they would stay up late drinking, waiting for her to walk through the door, and if Jo made it a habit to stroll in just before day break, when Ellen was still fast asleep out back, they sure weren’t going to say anything about it. 

One night they both stayed up until they could see the light barely peeking through the roadhouse windows. Jo had been gone for nearly three weeks and Chuck had swung by every night for the past three nights. Ash was secretly thankful for the company. He knew that Chuck was missing her just as much as he was and misery loves company, and beer. 

It was the fourth night, and almost morning, and Ash was about to call it quits. He and Chuck had been playing pool in a depressed silence for over an hour, and neither of them were very good at it, or even cared, with as many beers as they had finished off. It was Ash’s turn to shoot and Chuck stumbled trying to get around him, accidentally smacking him with the pool stick.

“Dude, watch where the fuck you’re goin’ with that thing.”

Ash snapped at Chuck, too tired and grumpy to care if he was being rude. He leaned back over, and just as he took his shot, he felt something hit the end of his pool stick and his shot went wild, sending the cue ball spinning. He glanced over just in time to see Chuck lowering his pool stick back to the ground. 

“You...! You fuckin’ did that on purpose!”

Ash threw his pool stick down on the table. Lord help him, he was going to wipe that stupid smirk right off Chuck’s face. But, much to his surprise, as soon as he went to grab at the front of Chuck’s shirt, he found himself bent over facing the opposite direction, with his arm twisted painfully up his back. It wasn't the first time the supposedly timid prophet had surprised him.

In the beginning Ash had just assumed that the guy got a little weird when when he was drunk. Who didn't? But the more time he spent around the guy, the more he started to suspect the whole scared nice guy thing was just a front. A front for what, he had already decided he didn't want to know. Chuck was an interesting enough enigma to hold Ash's interest, and witty enough to keep up with him in conversation. That was good enough for him. He'd seen enough creepy shit working at this bar that he knew better than to ask any really prying questions about who or what Chuck might really be. Besides, when he didn't have Ash in a surprise wrestling hold, he really was a chill kind of guy. 

“You sure you want to do this?”

“What, you think you can take me?”

Ash realized that sarcasm was really his only defense at the moment. Chuck's grip on his arm was surprisingly steady for such a scrawny guy, and without being about to see his captor's face, Ash couldn't tell if he should be concerned by the unfamiliar tone of Chuck's voice. But his booze-addled brain thrilled at the challenge and he kicked back at Chuck’s shin anyway, tossing out his flippant reply as he heard Chuck swear under his breath and release his arm to step back.

Ash turned and lunged again at Chuck, expecting the grab this time as he caught his wrist, Ash’s other hand following not far behind and finding it’s target, Chuck’s face. That was all it took before Ash found himself on the floor, struggling to get free from Chuck’s quick, and surprisingly strong grip. Chuck never punched him back though, finally managing to pin Ash face first onto the floor. So much for that plan.

“You know, people are always comin’ in here, tellin’ me what a nice guy you are. All these hunters think you’re a pussy.”

“Yeah... and what do you think, Ash?”

Ash took his chance when he heard the amused tone in Chuck’s voice, shoving him off and somehow managing to get to his feet. Moving quickly, Ash returned the favor, dragging Chuck up to pin him face first against the wall, his arm twisted up his back.

“I think maybe your ‘freinds’ don’t know you too well.”

Chuck laughed and Ash let him go. Chuck turned around and slumped against the wall. They were both still breathing pretty hard, but they stood in silence for a minute, each waiting for the other one to make the first move. 

“Yeah, well… people don’t really want to know the truth. They see whatever they want to see. It’s easier to just go along with it.”

There was something reluctant about Chuck’s dismissive answer and Ash couldn’t keep himself from staring as Chuck refused to meet his gaze. Living at the Roadhouse, the only time anyone other than Jo or Ellen bothered to talk to Ash was if they needed help with something. No one ever really tried to get to know him, so he knew exactly what Chuck meant. Why bother to correct people if they didn’t really even care in the first place?

Maybe he had to much to drink, or to little sleep, but whatever the reason, Ash put a hand on Chuck’s chest, pushing him gently back into the wall and making him glance up at Ash’s face just in time for Ash to catch his mouth with his own. Chuck didn’t fight it as Ash kissed him, understanding exactly what Ash was, without using words, trying to say.

He was surprised, however, when Ash didn’t stop, his kisses becoming more enthusiastic as he realized that Chuck wasn’t going to fight back. In fact, it wasn’t until Ash’s hips were pinning him to the wall, his hands sliding up Chuck’s shirt, that Chuck even had a moment to breathe.

“Ash…”

“Dude, jus' call me Miles.”

Chuck wasn’t even sure what he had started to say, it was kind of hard to think with Ash’s hips pressing so firmly against his own, but Ash cut him off and suddenly it didn’t really matter. There was only one other person that called Ash by his real name. Grinning, Chuck let Ash remove his shirt before eagerly returning the favor, but when Chuck tried to move from the wall Ash shoved him roughly.

“Oh no, I’m the one running this show Chucky-boy.”

The mischievous glint in Ash’s eyes and the infectious smirk on his face threw Chuck off guard for a minute, a small thrill of fear running up his spine as he wondered just what exactly it was that Ash had in mind. His anxiety was quickly forgotten however when Ash’s mouth returned his own with a fervor and he had to fight just to breathe.

He gasped when he felt Ash undoing his jeans, tugging them down past his hips and sliding his warm hand down the front of his boxers. Chuck grabbed at Ash’s hair, pulling his face back enough to take in his booze reddened face. Ash didn't normally black out from drinking, and this certainly wasn't the drunkest he's ever seen him. Then again, it never hurt to ask. That is, if he could find the words. With Ash's overeager hand still groping clumsily, Chuck has to admit it's not just the booze sending his brain in dizzy spirals.

"H-hey... shit. Ah- are you sure about this?"

Chuck realizes he's still gripping Ash's hair as the other man meets his gaze. He relaxes, letting his hand slide down to the back of Ash's neck as he watches the gears slowly turning behind his eyes. Suddenly, Ash's hand has been jerked free and Chuck sighs, a little disappointed.

"Shit, man... I... I thought... God, I fucked up."

Chuck can't help but smile ruefully at his choice of words, but it quickly turns to a frown as Ash's head drops. Gently squeezing the back of his neck, Chuck finds he's reluctant to just let it end like this.

"You thought?"

"I, uh... thought you were into it, I mean..."

Ash gestures vaguely towards Chuck's noticeably tented boxers, still muttering apologies, and Chuck has to struggle not to laugh. Sliding his hand under Ash's jaw, Chuck waits for Ash to meet his gaze before he speaks again.

"Just don't punch me in the face again."

Ash smiles, apologetic, then Chuck's words click and his mouth turns mischievous. Chuck pulls him in, a little more than eager to continue what they started earlier. Gasping from the unexpected force of Chuck’s kiss, Ash quickly undoes his own pants, pulling them down past his hips and swatting Chuck’s curious hand away. Then, leaning forward, he wraps his hand around both of their throbbing lengths and started with long firm strokes that had Chuck moaning loudly in his ear. 

“Fuuuck, Ash…”

Chuck gripped Ash’s hips tightly wanting to pull him closer but reluctant to act. It was almost torture, standing so close but not quite touching, just the friction of their arousals in the grip of Ash’s hand connecting them. They were both breathing hard and Chuck could see Ash’s frantic pulse beating in his neck. He leaned in to mouth the vein, his teeth and tongue working together to tease the skin, licking and biting sloppily.

Ash responded by picking up the pace, his strokes becoming more insistent, his grip a little tighter. He could feel Chuck’s harsh breathing as a hot cloud on his skin as he hit every sensitive nerve on Ash’s neck. It would be hard to explain any marks in the morning but Ash sure as hell wasn’t going to complain. He would, however, find a way to pay Chuck back for it. For now it was all Ash could do to keep standing, leaning his hips into Chuck’s grip as he focused on his own grip between them, his efforts rewarded by a whining moan.

“Miles, I’m go-“

“Yessssss.”

Moaning loudly, Chuck leaned back against the wall for support as his climax rushed through him. Moments later Ash moaned out his own climax into Chuck’s skin, adding to the sticky mess between them. 

It was a long moment before either of them moved, leaning against each other against the wall and trying to catch their breath. Eventually, they picked their clothes up off the floor and shuffled into Ash’s room to clean up and collapse onto the mattress, their dirty clothes discarded in a pile on the floor.

Not five minutes after they had both fallen asleep Jo snuck in, still baffled by the a simple fight turned wank session she had just witnessed. Smiling, she stripped down and climbed into the bed between her comatose boys. They both shifted, half asleep, to cuddle her between them and she sighed. Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day.


End file.
